


florentine plaster

by yukends (dowarae)



Series: character study [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan-centric, Mild Angst, Other, but lowkey implied, lapslock, markhyuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 12:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15194465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dowarae/pseuds/yukends
Summary: in which they're both good at pretending donghyuck doesn't feel the way he does.[character study]





	florentine plaster

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any mistakes jfjfjfj

-   
  
it goes like this: donghyuck’s never been a good liar.   
  
the first thing anyone notices about him is how easy he is to read, how he leaves all his emotions on display. his deepest thoughts open.   
  
and as he stands in the crowded street, watching the midday sun reflect off the roofs of fast-moving vehicles, he wonders when he’d adjusted to such a life in a foreign country. when he became comfortable, started considering it home.   
  
he also thinks about what it would be like to just, take a step forward. his left foot twitches.   
  
he can almost see it. how it would play out and he takes a breath-   
  
but mark gently grabbing his wrist brings him back to reality.   
  
he turns, dark eyes meeting dark eyes.   
  
“you good?” the canadian asks. donghyuck still isn’t used to the way english sounds out of his mouth, or the fact that he can (mostly) understand it.   
  
donghyuck was still getting used to the language, the fast pace up and downs and twists and turns. of course, he was familiar with the sound; he’d heard enough when they were in korea to be able to identify it, but he’d never understood before. colloquialisms and idioms and sentence structure still confuse him, he’s not used to the alphabet or the way the new sounds feel against the back of his teeth, the tip of his tongue.   
  
but he nods, lips twitching up, “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he replies. english is still foreign - always will be - despite the fact that the two have lived on the west coast of canada for nearly two years. there’s still the slight lilt to the way the words come out of his mouth, more forced and less musical than his counterpart. donghyuck knows it’s purely because english is mark’s first language and not his, the language he’s most comfortable speaking. but still, donghyuck feels inferior in a way he never has before.   
  
mark smiles softly, but his eyes still hold concern. donghyuck smiles again, an attempt to reassure. it seems to work well enough as mark laces their hands together and pulls him in the direction of their home.    
  
-   
  
they don’t label it.    
  
what he and mark have.   
  
sometimes, their nights end together. tangled in sheets and soft giggles, reminiscing about times before canada. those nights are night where they don’t speak english, when donghyuck expresses himself fully in his native language. spins words together in a way he never can with the language that dominates his current days.    
  
but sometimes they don’t. sometimes mark’s with someone else. sometimes donghyuck tries to ignore the way mark’s soft sighs sounds from the other room. he tries to focus on a book, his instagram feed,  _ anything _ to distract him from the way he  _ knows _ mark’s hands feel. sometimes donghyuck has to pretend he can’t imagine what it would be like to  _ be _ with mark.    
  
they never talk about it. about any of it. about how mark never officially came out as bisexual, but one morning when donghyuck watched a blond-haired boy step out of his room when he  _ knows _ for a fact just two nights earlier mark’d had someone definitely  _ not _ male in the very same situation.   
  
but donghyuck doesn’t say anything and neither does mark.    
  
they keep pretending that sometimes donghyuck doesn’t watch mark for a second longer than he should or that sometimes mark doesn’t fall asleep with his head against donghyuck’s collar bone, hands intertwined. they pretend that no matter how many people mark brings to their shared apartment, none of them ever stay more then one night, that it all means nothing.    
  
-   
  
donghyuck’s found he likes walking.   
  
he’s found he especially likes walking at night. when mark, and everyone else, is asleep. he likes walking darkened streets, memorizing the way they feel, so very different from the day.    
  
he imagines this is how the world felt before humanity, peaceful and alone. just there and nothing more; not burdened with responsibilities and too-quickly approaching deadlines, never having to worry about whether or not dinner was an option that evening because that money might be needed to pay rent.   
  
but donghyuck doesn’t walk purely to imagine theoretical personifications, he also uses it as a way to keep his mind off of the stresses of a new country, mark, everything that throws him off.    
  
as a way to cope with a sudden uplifting of his life and replacing everything he’s ever known with something completely brand new. a new language, culture, way of life. he uses walking as a way to sort out if staying in a country that isn’t his own is something he wants. he uses it in an attempt to familiarize himself with different corners and street signs, convince himself that  _ yes, this is what’s best. _   
  
he uses it as a way to avoid confronting the fact he’s a coward.    
  
-   
  
they’re in a coffee shop, sitting in a corner table near the floor to ceiling windows. it’s five thirty and the sun is low in the sky.   
  
he’s comfortable. sipping lukewarm tea, listening to mark talk.   
  
it’s then that donghyuck fully realizes something. “mark, i’m in love with you.”   
  
the words come out of his mouth before he truly processes what he said. process that he said it in korean instead of english.   
  
he freezes. there’s a ringing in his ears. mark isn’t talking anymore and donghyuck suddenly feels sick.   
  
donghyuck doesn’t look at him but instead watches a drop of bitter coffee roll down the side of the white porcelain. the spreading brown staining a ring on the pale wood as it reaches the bottom.    
  
“hyuck?” mark says. voice quiet, soft.    
  
donghyuck looks up and meets mark’s gaze. his face is serious, the corners of his lips pulling down slightly. he can’t tell what’s going on in mark’s head, his eyes betraying nothing. he’s always been much more better at this than donghyuck every can be.    
  
he tries not to think too hard about how mark hasn’t said anything else, about what the silence could mean. he can hear his heartbeat. mark opens his mouth, and donghyuck suddenly doesn’t know if he can handle what mark’s about to say.   
  
so he stands up, leaves instead. mark calls out his name, reaches for his hand.   
  
tears well in his eyes as he leaves the coffee shop but they don’t fall, the soft jingling of bell feeling like some kind of final sentence; it used to make him so happy, but now it feels like the end of something donghyuck doesn’t necessarily understand.   
  
:   
  
he doesn’t go back to apartment, not immediately anyways.   
  
he takes a walk through streets he’s slowly becoming familiar with, the way orange street light reflects off of glass structures. the sound the rain makes as it hits the cement, the smell.    
  
he familiarizes himself with the way english sounds to his ears, as he walks past bars and couples walking the streets.    
  
he familiarizes himself with the potentiality that he’ll have to leave, take his leave from the country he’s come to call home.    
  
but before he knows it, it’s dark and his phone says 10:30.    
  
he has twenty seven texts, fourteen missed calls.   
  
-   
  
he’s soaked by the time he reaches the apartment. his hair is dripping water into his eyes and he can hear his shoes squeaking.    
  
he walks up to their door and reaches for the doorknob. he turns it gently.   
  
and it doesn’t move. the door’s locked.   
  
he curses softly, knowing he left the key in his room because mark had his and donghyuck hadn’t planned on going for a five hour angst walk.   
  
he sighs, running a hand through his sopping hair. he hoped he could’ve just snuck into his room, avoiding confronting mark until the morning.    
  
but now he’s locked out, and that leaves him with no choice.    
  
he takes a deep breath, raises his hand and ignores the anxiety rises in his throat. he knocks, a weak _ tap, tap, tap _ that betrays how nervous he really is when he hears mark practically launch himself at the door in an effort to open it.   
  
the chipped white wood swings open with a creak and mark’s standing there.    
  
there’s a moment of silence between the two and donghyuck takes him in. his hair is a mess, probably from running his hands through it as donghyuck discovered is a nervous habit. he has his glasses on and one of donghyuck’s sweaters that mark stole from him when they first moved hangs off of his frame.   
  
donghyuck barely has a moment to process anything else before mark pulls him into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. donghyuck can feel himself soaking mark’s clothes, but mark doesn’t seem to care as he buries his face in donghyuck’s neck.   
  
he tentatively wraps his arms around mark’s waist, unsure of where this is going to go.   
  
he doesn’t think mark’s going to kick him out. not yet, at least.   
  
mark pulls away a few moments later and stares into donghyuck’s eyes. “don’t ever do that again.” his voice is shaky, corners of his pulled down into a frown.   
  
“i just went for a walk.”   
  
mark goes and sits on the living room couch, donghyuck closes the door.   
  
“you weren’t answering your phone and i didn’t know if something happened. you left so suddenly and when you didn’t come home i-“ mark cuts himself off, takes a breath. “i didn’t know if... if maybe you did something or if someone did something to you.”    
  
it’s then that he takes a step, not bothering to take his shoes off. they squeak every step as he makes his way to the couch, sits down beside mark - not close enough to touch, hands in his lap.   
  
“i’m sorry, hyung.” he says quietly, in korean.   
  
mark reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it softly. they don’t look at each other. “hyuck, you’re my best friend, nothing will change that. but i worry about you sometimes. like, when you leave in the middle of the night and i don’t know if you’ll come back. or when we’re walking across a bridge and you look out into the water and i’m scared that maybe this will be the time that you jump. i-“    
  
donghyuck cuts him off. turns to him, looks at the side of his head, water droplets hit the couch. “you know i couldn’t. i wouldn’t.”    
  
mark tightens his grip on donghyuck’s hand and looks over. their eyes meet. “do i? know for sure, i mean.”   
  
donghyuck searches for an answer. he doesn’t find one, so instead he looks down, runs a hand though his still dripping hair.    
  
he feels a shiver run through his body. he hadn’t realized how cold he was until then.    
  
mark stands, gently tugging on donghyuck’s hand to get him to rise too, “let’s get you into some dry clothes before you get sick or something.”    
  
donghyuck nods, and follows mark into his room, grabs some clothes, a towel.   
  
mark goes to leave, but stops in his doorway, “you can stay in my room tonight, if you want.”   
  
donghyuck hesitates in the dim lighting, “okay.”    
  
mark nods, waffles in the doorway for a second before he leaves. donghyuck closes his door and changes, dries himself off.   
  
:   
  
his hair is still damp when he opens the door to mark’s room. all the light are off in the apartment and he can barely see as he enters.   
  
the only light comes from mark’s phone where he sits on it, already underneath the covers. he looks up when donghyuck steps on a creaky floorboard and pats the spot beside him, says nothing.   
  
donghyuck moves quickly, he doesn’t know if he’s trembling from cold or from anxiety - he suspects it might be both.    
  
mark puts down his phone and donghyuck crawls into his arms. mark runs a hand through his damp hair, gently playing with the strands.   
  
“go to sleep, hyuck. we’ll deal with this tomorrow.” mark says softly, places a gentle kiss on the top of his head.   
  
donghyuck shifts closer to mark, grateful for the warmth, and he sleeps.


End file.
